No Words Needed
by Negolith
Summary: When things go FUBAR, it's good to have a team that can understand you.


_Author's Note: Holy crap! I just realized I never posted this here. This was a Secret Santa fic from last year (yeah, yeah, I'm slow) for wildcat88. Her prompt is at the end._

**No Words Needed**

"Now _that_ was a total waste of time." Rodney stepped up onto one of hundreds of identical grassy hummocks that rose out of the shallow water and shook a waterlogged boot dramatically. "'There is a Temple of the Ancestors in the forest' they told us. Forest? Excuse me, but this is a freakin' swamp. When the ratio of water to dry land exceeds more than seventy-five per cent – hello. Swamp."

John was glad Rodney was following him – his grin would have sent the physicist over the edge of amusing rant to annoying whine in a heartbeat. Instead he kept his eyes on Ronon's back as the big guy retraced their path back to where the _dry_ 'jumper sat on edge of a huge mountain lake. And really – in his opinion, it was more of a _marsh_….

"And if that pile of overgrown rubble was Ancient – well, it was ancient but not in the capitalized sense _we're_ accustomed to – then I thoroughly expect Kavanaugh to be winning a Nobel prize this year. Seriously, how idiotic did those villagers think we were? The Tunaburger, Turdabungee, Tuba-something." He snapped his fingers in rapid succession. "What were they called, Teyla?"

"The Turabandi."

John could just see her rolling her eyes with her tone.

"That's it. I bet the translation of that name means 'People Who Pull Fast Ones on Strangers and Make Them Hike Through Swamp for Most of Day'."

John couldn't hold back any longer. "I don't think their name has enough syllables to mean that, Rodney," he drawled out. And heard Ronon snort in front of him.

"Syllables have nothing to do with meaning," Rodney snapped back. "Remember the people we got those, those florescent orange eggs with the, the _puce_ yolks from?"

"Those were good," John mumbled. Then he stopped and turned his head enough to grimace at Rodney. "Puce? Why couldn't you just say 'red'?"

"Because there are many nuances to the color 'red', and just plain 'red' didn't …. Not my point."

"You haven't had a point for an hour," Ronon growled. He had stopped, too, but only to drink some water.

Rodney sneered at him. "My point is you whistled when you saw the beach and damn near got us all skewered."

"I was admiring the breakers!" John's voice came out high and he cleared his throat. "And how was I supposed to know that the headsman thought I was, um, propositioning his wife."

"Exactly! How are we to know what Tunaband-aid…."

"Turabandi," Teyla supplied with a weariness that was totally lost on Rodney.

"…Really means?"

John rubbed his forehead. "You know, Rodney – if your feet could move as steadily as your mouth, we'd be back at the 'jumper by now."

"That's another thing – how do you know we aren't walking in circles, huh? I swear we've passed that same tree three times now."

Ronon looked ready to shoot Rodney, but John was starting to recognize the signs – crankiness, extreme verbosity, _snark_…. He pulled open a pocket on his tac vest, fished out his last chocolate Powerbar, and tossed it to Rodney, who juggled it a few times before he got a grip on the thing and ripped it open. "I know you can chew and walk at the same time. Let's move out." Before he turned around he caught a silent _thank you_ from Teyla, and when he faced Ronon the man's face was split in a huge grin.

They ran out of dry land before Rodney ran out of Powerbar. Ronon stepped down into the murky water that rose to nearly his knees and headed for the next clump of dry ground. John kept about twenty feet between them but made of point of following the former runner's path, so when his right foot came down on something that was harder than the mud and _moving_ Ronon was already stepping up onto the next low hummock.

John barely kept his balance as his right foot went sideways, but then something flashed up out of the water right in front of him and buried itself high up on his right thigh. For just the briefest of moments he stared at what looked like a cross between a scorpion and a manta ray tail that arched up out of the water, then the nova hot burn hit like an entire pissed-off defensive line. He couldn't stop a scream that echoed among the trees as his entire body seemed to cramp from the pain. It cut off abruptly as the tail jerked with surprising strength and he went down and under.

-oOo-

Rodney had the last bite of Powerbar almost to his lips when he saw Sheppard's leg almost go out from under him. Then he saw the Colonel jerk, and the sound that came out of him made Rodney forget his snack. When Sheppard was pulled under, face first, he dropped that last bite and his hand went immediately for his sidearm.

All three yelled Sheppard's name, but Ronon was the first into the now roiling water. For just a second they could see the back of Sheppard's head and shoulders as he tried to get up, then he disappeared again in the murk. Ronon reached down into the water and didn't have to fish around long before he hauled the Colonel up by the loop on the back of his tac vest. Sheppard's face was twisted in a rictus of pure agony as he coughed up water.

Teyla started firing her P90 into the water a good ten feet from Ronon and Sheppard in a spot where mud was boiling to the surface.

And Rodney had his nine mil in his hand and was firing as well while his brain was gibbering and telling him that this could potentially be a very bad thing. Especially when Sheppard was practically jerked out of Ronon's grasp and he tried to scream again. At the same time the water started to darken around Sheppard, the roiling mud took on a blue-black cast and began to subside.

Without even thinking about it Rodney ejected the empty clip and slapped a new one home before he jumped into the water. Teyla was right with him, and both of them kept their weapons aimed down as they crossed the small channel. Ronon was already hauling Sheppard out of the water onto dry land before they even got halfway across.

Rodney didn't holster his gun until he was up on land, and he almost forgot to do that when he took one look at Sheppard. The man was just writhing on the ground, eyes squeezed shut and teeth bared, while Ronon held both hands pressed to a spot next to John's holster and something black jutted up between his fingers. They were red, and John's pants were soaked with more than just mud and water.

"Teyla, get his holster off," Ronon growled.

As she knelt to do that, Sheppard sat halfway up and let out a loud, groaning growl. "Two more inches …. Right. Why … couldn't it have been?" He collapsed and just panted.

The little voice in the back of Rodney's head that showed up in times like this thought, _Way to go, Yoda_. Thankfully it didn't engage his mouth for once.

"Try not to move, John." Teyla quickly undid the thigh straps to give Ronon more room. "The stinger is still in your leg." She undid the web-belt's buckle and immediately pulled her field dressing kit out of her vest. "Rodney, we will need your kit as well."

Rodney's eyes were wide as he stared at all the blood. Then he was scrambling to get his kit out, too. He handed it to Teyla and mumbled, "Oh, that doesn't look good."

"Thanks, McKay," John grated out. "Instill … some confidence there, why don'tcha?" His breathing and writhing were starting to come under control. "Thigh's going numb."

"And that instills confidence is _us_?" Rodney choked out.

"Bleeding's slowing," Ronon said as he removed one hand to pull Sheppard's field kit out. When he and Teyla started packing gauze around the stinger to stabilize it, John yelled. "That's not numb," was all Ronon said.

John let out a wheezy, strained laugh. "No – really?"

"Rodney, could you come lift his leg? Please?" Teyla motioned to where she wanted Rodney to hold under Sheppard's knee and ankle. "Gently." He did, with minor shaking, and she and Ronon finished wrapping the wound.

John didn't make a sound, but he had his head thrown back, his lips clamped down, and every muscle and tendon in his neck stood out. When they finally finished and lowered his leg, he let out an explosive breath of air. "Oh, man – I thought jelly fish stings were bad."

"Hey, aren't you supposed to ur …." Rodney's words trailed off when he saw murderous glare from Sheppard. "Okay, not finishing that thought."

"Thank you."

"But you know, if the neurotoxin is similar, it is an idea …." He heard a low growl from the Colonel. "Okay, but if you wind up losing your leg when we had the solution all along, just remember that I did bring it up." He saw Ronon and Teyla squinting their eyes down in confusion and decided to be quiet.

-oOo-

Ronon peered off between the trees. "I can see light reflecting off the lake. Not far to the 'jumper." He looked down at Sheppard. The blood that was flowing from the wound earlier didn't have the bright red of arterial blood, but he was pretty sure the stinger was imbedded in bone. "You gonna make it?"

"Yeah."

Ronon grunted and saw Sheppard's eyes narrow faintly. He knew that look – the man was in agony and wasn't about to say how bad he really was. They were too much alike for each either's own damn good.

"Has the numbness spread?" Teyla asked as she unclipped the P90 from Sheppard's vest.

Sheppard grimaced. "A little. Still mostly the thigh."

Ronon and Teyla exchanged looks. She knew him, too, and could see the disbelief in her eyes. "McKay, get his other arm." He didn't even give the doctor a chance to get in place before he grabbed Sheppard by the wrist and the front of his vest and hauled him to his feet. As he draped an arm over his shoulder he felt the man tense and hold his breath.

But he didn't make a sound.

McKay finally got under the other arm and both of them grabbed onto the back of Sheppard's vest with their free hands.

"Slouch … Chewie, or you're gonna … dislocate my shoulder."

Ronon grinned. "McKay, stand up straighter."

"With my back and his soggy ass, this is as straight as it's going to get."

"Tha's gonna help, too."

Ronon wasn't too sure what the Colonel was referring to – McKay's bitching or help. Probably both. He waited until he could feel some of the tension ease in Sheppard's arm before heading out and was heartened to see that he could support some weight on his bad leg with just minor grunts of pain. He glanced sideways and saw nothing but clenched determination in the man's face.

Teyla had gathered up Sheppard's weapons and was now leading the way. When they came to the channels she would fire a few rounds into the water, then wait a moment before stepping in, and she stayed in the water until Sheppard was up on the bank again. Then she was scouting out the path until the next crossing.

They were halfway to the 'jumper when Ronon noticed that Sheppard was just dragging his right leg now, and the left took longer to swing forward with each assisted step. He looked over Sheppard's hanging head at McKay, but he was too absorbed in watching his own feet to notice. Then Sheppard yelled and tried to curl up, and almost pulled McKay off his feet.

Teyla whirled around. "John?"

Sheppard was still doubled over, and Ronon could see the source of the new pain. "Leg's cramping," he said through his teeth.

"Well, point your toes!" McKay supplied.

They wound up having to lay Sheppard back on the ground and all three of them practically pound on his left leg until the pain from that about made the man pass out. He still wasn't ready to go when he was hauled back to his feet again.

The trees had thinned and they could see the 'jumper silhouetted against the bright lake, but before they got to it Ronon had to hoist Sheppard up over his shoulders in a fireman's carry.

Both of the Colonel's leg were completely numb.

-oOo-

Teyla had hoped that John's labored breathing was due to the awkward position Ronon carried him in for the last hundred yards, but when the Satedan lowered him onto one of the 'jumper's benches, it was not the case. Cramps were wracking John's torso and arms now, and he had not been able to speak because of the pain. But his eyes were open at the moment, and Teyla had known the man long enough to recognize the veiled fear in them.

"Be home before you know it, buddy," Ronon said. John managed a nod before another cramp had his eyes squeezed shut and his back arching up off the bench. He glanced at Teyla briefly and for a moment both of them lost their calm expressions. "McKay," Ronon growled.

"I'm on it." He was already in the pilot's seat and going through start-up. The rear hatch closed a few seconds before the vehicle hummed to life.

Teyla retrieved the bulkier emergency medical kit from the webbing overhead and pulled out the small oxygen tank. For once John didn't try to dislodge the mask the second after it was settled onto his face. "Better?" she asked, and he did manage a weak nod before another cramp hit. This one produced the opposite effect and he curled up onto his side into a near fetal position. Teyla barely caught him before he fell off onto the floor.

The inertial dampeners kicked in abruptly and Ronon actually swayed a bit. Teyla held onto John since it was plain his abdominal muscles were still knotted. He was breathing in short, shallow gasps now, and after every third or fourth one there was a pause that had her even more worried. It still didn't stop him from muttering something under the clear mask. She leaned close and lifted it briefly. "What was that?"

"Tell'm … layoff … gas."

"What? What did he say?" came Rodney's panicked voice from the cockpit.

"He said 'lay off the gas'," Ronon supplied.

All Rodney had as a reply was a strangled laugh.

John started to unkink and Teyla eased him gently onto his back. His breathing was worse – maybe one per two counts of nothing – and now his eyes were wide with pure unquestionable fear. She smoothed wet hair off his forehead and smiled as reassuringly as possible while her own heart tried to beat its way out of her chest. "I can hear Rodney dialing Atlantis. We are almost home." A few seconds later she heard Rodney ordering a medical team to the 'jumper bay.

The familiar tingle of passing through the event horizon washed over her, and when it disappeared John quit breathing altogether.

-oOo-

Rodney wasn't the only one who could freak out like a pro – John was pretty sure he could give the physicist a run for his money right now. The only difference between him and Rodney was John could kept his freak outs _contained_.

And at the moment, thanks to the paralysis that had him trapped in his own cold, numb meat sack of a body, contained _was_ the only option.

It wasn't so bad after the numbness set in in his right leg; however, where the stinger was imbedded still throbbed like a mother. But then he felt a wave of heat first go through his pelvis and settle in his left hip, and a moment later the cramping started in that leg. As a runner, he knew what leg cramps were like – these were the ghosts of every single one coming back to haunt him. He would have sobbed with relief when cold, numb _nothingness_ replaced them, but the wave of heat was pooling in his belly by then and starting its way up his abdomen.

The freak out started when Ronon was forced to throw him over his shoulders and his breathing started to get wonky. He kept calm for a few minutes by practicing the breathing techniques Teer taught him, but that only worked so far. When the body doesn't want to work….

By the time he was laid on the 'jumper's bench he had to concentrate in order to keep breathing, and with his heart pounding wildly in his chest he was sure he'd pass out any moment from lack of oxygen. His ears were buzzing, and he had enough of his vision left to be able to see the panic in Teyla and Ronon's eyes before his back muscles tried to rip clean off his spine. All he was aware of was that pain before something settled over his face and he was actually happy for once to have an oxygen mask slapped on him. He still couldn't hear from the thundering in his ears, but when he opened his eyes he could read Teyla's lips and nodded before another wave of agony consumed him.

He felt it when the 'jumper came to life around him, and that provided a touch of focus. Especially Rodney's little jackrabbit start. He must have said what he was thinking out loud, because he heard Teyla ask him to repeat it. He did, and that little bit of sound he produced was hell. But her warm breath on his cold cheek was … close to heaven.

Then his diaphragm quit listening to him and stopped completely.

As a soldier, John always assumed he'd die violently. One minute he'd be in a fire fight, or a dog fight, then bam – bullet through the head, heat seaker, and then nothingness. Then he came to the Pegasus Galaxy and more gruesome opportunities to die reared their ugly heads. But he had to admit, being nearly sucked dry by a Wraith wasn't nearly as frightening to him as having his own body slowly trying to suffocate him.

In his mind he was fighting and thrashing and trying to claw at his throat, but in reality his hands were only twitching at his sides. His eyes were wide open, but his only vision was a small round bright spot like he was holding a pair of binoculars an inch from his eyes.

So when Carson came into view it was as if the doctor was miles away and John was certain he wouldn't be able to get to him in time to help. Then there was nothing but thunder and cold and darkness.

-oOo-

And it was thunder of a different sort that woke him up. More precisely, the raised voice of a certain physicist in what sounded like the beginning of full bore freak out mode.

"Carson. Carson! He's waking up!"

And he was. Mentally. Physically, not so much. He felt cold, at least he thought he felt cold, and when he tried to tell Rodney to pipe down, he couldn't even draw in a breath to speak. He was vaguely aware of a beeping in the background speeding up as he fought to open his eyes. So far it felt like just his right one was going to cooperate.

"Rodney, this better not be another false alarm because of a twitchy … oh crap."

John got his eye open, and the first thing it focused on was the blue hose from a respirator rising up above him. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as his left eye cracked open halfway, and he was sure he was choking. Couldn't breathe, _couldn't move_.... _Oh hell_.

"John? John – relax Colonel. Please. You're home, in the infirmary. Please, you have to relax. You're safe and sound."

John rolled his eye toward the sound of Carson's voice. The doctor's worried face was encircled by a shrinking black halo, and over his shoulder Rodney peered at him like the world's weirdest parrot that had a widow's peak instead of a beak.

"The paralysis is temporary, John. Temporary. Do you hear me? You're going to be fine."

John blinked rapidly as the words slowly sunk in, and his heart slowed a tad.

"Good, you _are_ hearing me." Carson smiled in relief, and Rodney deflated out of view until all John could see was receding hairline.

He so wanted to pant – his brain was telling him he absolutely _had_ to because he needed more oxygen for crap's sake – but all he could feel was the faraway sensation of his chest rising and falling in a far too slow and steady rhythm. And the pressure in his throat that was still making him think he was choking.

"John, please, relax."

He looked to his left and saw Teyla smiling at him, and Ronon hovered over her only because he was a foot taller. His own features were lit by a big shit-eating grin.

And just like that the fight went out of him. He was surrounded by his team, his friends, and he was home. He closed his eyes and listened for the comforting hum of Atlantis herself that was forever present in the back of his mind and felt the right corner of his mouth twitch. By the time he finally reopened his eyes – the left one a beat slower – his pulse was almost back to normal. He focused on the respirator tubing briefly, then looked at Carson. It took a couple tries, but he did get his left eyebrow to raise.

"A few more days yet," Carson replied. "The toxin from whatever nailed you was similar in composition to tetrodotoxin and paralyzed you."

John quirked his eyebrows up in the center briefly, one just a bit higher than the other.

"Puffer fish venom. We were able to whip up an antidote, but the last scan showed high traces yet in your diaphragm and abdominal muscles. So, you may have to stay on this wee bit after your arms and legs wake up."

He raised his eyebrows again and mentally sighed.

Rodney giggled. "Oh, man – it's like, like eyebrow semaphore." Eyebrows lowered, and he giggled again. "So, if I read that code directly, you just gave me a hirsute finger. Good thing you don't have a unibrow."

Carson sighed. "Rodney, settle."

Teyla smiled and placed a hand on the bed railing. "I believe we will be able to understand you rather well until you are able to speak again."

John lifted his eyebrows again, and when they settled he felt his whole hairline move. It made Teyla laugh, and his mouth twitched again.

"And, yes – you have expressive _hair_ as well."

"Huh, really?" Rodney frowned. "I thought it was just perpetually startled. Or trying to escape." He looked at Sheppard. "Yup, just got another finger." But Rodney had the happiest grin on his face right then and didn't seem perturbed at all.

"All right, people, I need to do a few tests. So, if you could just wait outside?" Rodney was the only one who grumbled as he ducked through the curtains that surrounded Sheppard's bed. Carson waited a moment for everyone to clear before he spoke again. "I have a feeling you know what I'm about to say. One blink for yes, two for no."

John winked.

"And no getting cheeky with me."

He couldn't fully smile, but his eyes crinkled up just the same. And they stayed crinkled when he was able to feel the pin pricks on the bottoms of both feet and the palms of his hands. One foot even _twitched_. His team was very proud and happy for him when they were allowed to return, and when John started to nod off several hours later, Rodney was proposing a full out study of the new language of Shepaphore….

He felt both sides of his mouth twitch into a hint of a smile before sleep caught up with him.

_Their request is: Things I'd like: Gen, lots of team, snark, angst, whump (Sheppard and McKay only please) but not just to whump. I need plot! I love all our characters including our fabulous secondary ones (especially Lorne and Zelenka). I adore suspense and mystery. I like good dark!fic, but it needs to have a bit of uplift at the end. I'm a sucker for happy endings._

_Things I wouldn't like: pairings of any kind, character bashing, sexually explicit scenes, death!fic, kid!fic, permanent injury, non-con, crack!fic._

_She gave me kudos for unique whump. :D_


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